Well, it is now Thursday the 11th, and the run was the 7th. Let's see what highlights surface. Uh,..Well there was,..Oh Yah,. OK let's start at the start. That's logical. The hares promised to start the hash precisely at 3:00pm, on the dot, no delay. Sooo, as I sat at a stop light one block from the start at 3:05pm I was not surprised to encounter Hashers crossing Main Street at Quitman after having done a pleasant little circle jerk. I arrived at The Bank of America, which is really The Bank of Texas, (who's the Republic of Texas activist) tossed my hash bag at the hares and began running in the general direction of the pack along with the handful of other late starters. I could take a moment here to expound on the anal retentive attitude that seems to be running amuck in the hash these days. I remember a time when both the punctual and the procrastinator could hash as one, in a friendly environment. Now it seems the latter is being ostracized and discriminated against simply because we are free, fun loving hashers unencumbered by the restrictions of the ticking clock (Pump Me get off your soap box- Pipes). Oh well, I like a challenge, and coming from behind can be exciting, so on to the trail. It seems the hares must have stopped at a local soup kitchen and donated much of the flour to the poor for bread or some such thing, as there was a limited supply on trail. But in true hash form we managed just the same to find our way. It was actually a rather uneventful run. A lot of road, no shiggy, no water (except from the sky), a couple of blow jobs, arrows & checks. The hares did do a good job of screwing the front runners around and keeping the pack together, I can't help getting a little kick out of the hot dogs passing me again, and again and again. In fact, most of the pack came in along with the walkers who I saw hide nor hare of up until I ran past “Lorna Dunes” sprouting a Christmas Tree from her neck. The ON Home was at one of the Hares houses in a shed smelling of doggy doo doo. That sweet aroma didn't last long though as we packed the confined area with the sweaty, sticky, stench of humanity. There was much rubbing, grinding, and groping going on as we made our way from food to keg, and keg to food. All in all a good time, there was a steaming pot of something that looked like swamp water, I can't provide a critique on the flavor as I was not daring enough to partake, but I heard no complaint as it was gobbled down. The circle commenced, accusations were made, people drank..Surprise, Surprise. And then it was On-On-On to an ice house on some street, where we drank some more. Had a great time dancing as we awaited a gale down pour to dissipate. Bet you wish you were there. No offense hares, you did a great job. The real goal of this Trash is to discourage BE from ever asking me to do it again. Hats off to you, I loved the Hash!!!!! On-On ”Pump Me” |
TWIRLY MANS STEAMING MY BUSH HASH RUN NUMBER 984 SUNDAY,
DECEMBER 07, 1997 VENUE: AMERICA’S BANK
PARKING LOT ON N. MAIN HARES: “TWIRLY
MAN”, “STEAMING BUSH” & GREG